


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by Rainy_Day_Lemonade



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arthur needs to stop flexing, But hey whats new there, Competitive gym rivals, Don't copy to another site, Gym AU, Humour, Lancelot is a good friend, M/M, Merlin needs to chill, Merlin's oblivious to his own feelings, Morgana ships it, Oblivious Pining, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Romance, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Stressed out Merlin, barely angsty, no magic, please be kind, uni student merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22459990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy_Day_Lemonade/pseuds/Rainy_Day_Lemonade
Summary: Merlin joined the gym to release some of his stress- over uni, work, and life in general.He didn’t plan on building an overly dramatic rivalry with some stupid-handsome dude-bro. But, alas, Merlin’s never really known how to quit.(AKA The ridiculous gym rivals AU you never knew you needed)
Relationships: Background Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to my first Merthur fic!  
> This began as a one-shot... haha... I was a fool.  
> This fic will probably be around two or three chapters, and I will aim to update on a weekly basis.  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC show Merlin or its characters. 
> 
> Title is from the song by Pat Benatar of the same name.

Entering the gym was like entering the forge of a vaguely chaotic blacksmith. At least, that was Merlin’s impression. Concrete walls splashed with red and black, the air that filled his lungs was warm and oddly heavy. “I’m really glad you decided to join, Merlin- it’ll be nice to work out with a friend for a change.” Lance dropped his bag, fishing around for his gloves. “It’ll be nice to work out with a friend for a change. The guys are good, but they can get kinda… intense.”  
Merlin raised an eyebrow. Lance was a great guy, making him both a brilliant friend and an unreliable narrator.  
“Intense?”  
“Yeah, just like… _passionate.”_ He paused, brows furrowed. “One guy said he didn’t like protein shakes, and I _swear,_ I thought things would get violent... Not that you need to worry, of course!” He amended with an almost convincing tone, “Just… Maybe let me do the talking.”  
Merlin knew better than to argue.  
“You’ve got it.” He grinned, turned to the equipment with a sweeping gesture, and _oh God, is that a medieval torture device?_ “So… What do you want to do first?”

Lance suggested they stretch first, to minimise any risk of injury. Merlin had faith in his friend’s knowledge- not to mention the floor mats were the least threatening equipment in the gym- so, naturally, he agreed.  
It was going well. Merlin was discovering muscles he never knew he had- mostly because they kept screaming at him to _stop._ _He was pretty sure that was supposed to happen, though._ _  
_ “Hey, Lance…”  
Then this idiot showed up. “…What the hell is your friend doing?”  
Already on edge, Merlin met the newcomer’s gaze. The guy was _ripped,_ which only made him more _irritating_.  
“… I’m stretching. Obviously.”  
“Is that what you call it?” the prat scoffed, “You’re gonna snap a tendon doing that. Stop before you hurt yourself.”  
Merlin didn’t trust himself to respond. He had three assignments due that Friday, so his patience for clotpoles was at an all-time low _._ “Lance, keep an eye on your friend.”  
Lance, the modern-day saint, just nodded.  
“Will do.”  
The clotpole moved away. Merlin allowed himself a moment to glower at his retreating figure- and, coincidentally, his obnoxiously beefy biceps. _What is he, part ox? Does he just flex 24/7?_ _  
_ “… Who the hell is that prat?”  
“That’s Arthur,” Lance hummed, “One of the regulars. He grows on you, after a bit.”  
Merlin stared; the brunet sighed, “OK, after a while.”  
The prat hadn’t moved too far- he was leant against a nearby treadmill, arms folded and chatting to one of the female instructors. _Probably chatting her up, the creep. The absolute dollophead._ _  
_ “… Hm.”  
“No.”  
Merlin startled at the word. Lance stood his ground. “I said no.”  
“What?”  
“I know that hum. That’s the hum you made when Professor Kilgharrah gave your essay a B plus.”  
That was a low blow. Merlin bristled, stretch now long forgotten.  
“I spent _weeks_ on that essay, and his feedback was so vague! How was I supposed to improve it?”  
“You were in his office for two hours! I thought he’d eaten you or something.” Lance sighed, hand raking through his hair. “Look, just promise you’ll stay chill. Gwen will kill me if I let you get pummelled by an athlete.”  
_No promises._ Merlin huffed, rising from his mat; if his bones creaked at the movement, he’d never admit it.  
“Please… As if that clot pole’s a real athlete.”

Merlin had been going to the gym for about a week now, and honestly… it wasn’t that bad. He was sleeping better, he felt more focused in lectures, and he could picture his lab partner’s face right where he hit the punching bag. _Stupid George… Thinks he’s soooo clever… learn some better jokes then, you prat…_ _  
_ Despite all these pros, there was still one significant con: Arthur, resident dollophead.  
“How much weight do you want, Arthur?”  
“Maybe ten more kilos, each side? I’m trying to push myself.”  
Merlin scowled over his water-bottle, eyes narrowed, watching the blond’s barbell become increasingly heavier. “Thanks, Leon.”  
“… Stupid show-off,” Merlin muttered, “With his weights… and his biceps…”  
“Sure thing, Merlin.” Lance hummed, not bothering to pause his own work-out.  
Merlin continued to glare at the weights- which was, in hindsight, a bad move. A cough drew his attention to narrowed blue eyes.  
“You right there, mate?”  
_Crap, I’ve been spotted… Abort, abort…_ _  
_ “Yeah, yeah.” He sniffed, feigning nonchalance, “Just weighing up my options.”  
Lance failed to stifle his snort- a victory in Merlin’s books; but _Arthur_ , to his annoyance, just _smirked._ _  
_ “… You do that.”  
_That prat._ Shoulders back, Merlin moved to the bell bars with a steely resolve.  
"Hey, Lance, can you help me with the weights?”  
“Hm?” His friend blinked. “Sure, how much do you want?”  
“Just keep adding till I tell you.”  
Lance’s hands hovered over the plates. He sent Merlin a worried look.  
“… Merlin, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  
“C’mon, Lance, it’ll be fine! Trust me.”

It was not fine. Not fine at all.  
“Merlin, I think you should stop.”  
“What are you… about?” Merlin grunted, head pushed back into the bench. The barbell hovered shakily over his torso. “M’ fine…”  
“Merlin, you’re turning red.” Lance groaned, hand combing through his hair. He bit his lip. “I think you should stop.”  
_God, what a worry wart…_ with shaking hands, and some (small) help from his friend, Merlin lofted the bar back onto its stand.  
“F… Fine.” He grunted, ignoring the hollow ache in his chest. “How was that?”  
“Well…” Lance quipped, gaze to the ceiling, “… You bench pressed twenty kilos, about five times.”  
“… I’m pretty sure that was six, actually.”  
“You don’t count lifting off the stand, Merlin.”

_Thirty… Thirty-one… Thirty-two…_ _  
_ Merlin wouldn’t call himself competitive- just highly motivated. Right now, he was highly motivated to get one up on that annoyingly muscly dollophead.  
_… Thirty-five… Thirty-six…_ _  
_ “… Merlin, you’ve been squatting for the past ten minutes. You should take a break.”  
“I’m fine, Lance.” He took a gulp of air. “My hand strings are tight, I need to work them.”  
“Do you… Do you mean your _hamstrings?”_ _  
… Thirty-nine…  
_“OK, this is physically painful to watch.”  
Still mid-squat, his head snapped up to meet the newcomer. Arthur towered above in all his sweaty glory, lording over him like the prat he was. “You need to stop.” _  
_ “No way.” Merlin huffed, rocking in his crouch. “I can go all day.”  
“Oh my God…” The prat had the nerve to look _exasperated,_ arms raised in disbelief. “If you go any longer, you’ll hurt yourself. Your posture’s all wrong- you shouldn’t be hunched over like that.”  
_Whatever, what do you…_ Oh no.  
Arthur was suddenly _very close..._ Very close and very _warm-_ heat radiated off him like a sauna, _why is he so close?_ “Come on, I’ll show you.”  
His muscles had turned to stone, taut as the strings of a violin. Merlin held his breath as a gentle hand pushed against his shoulder blades. “OK, keep your shoulders back like that, and imagine your touching the floor with your tailbone. Your spine shouldn’t be curved, you’ll only hurt your back doing that.”  
_Oh my God, oh my God, WHAT?!?_ _  
_ “… OK.”  
“Good. He’s all yours, Lance.”  
Arthur rose and left, but Merlin still felt terribly _hot._ He sunk to the floor, eyes wide and unseeing.  
“… Did you see that? Right there?”  
Lance raised an eyebrow.  
“… Arthur helping you? Yeah, I noticed.”  
_Why would Arthur help me? Prats aren’t helpful… It makes no sense._ _  
_ Merlin rose to his feet with a grunt, propping his weight against the wall. The fire returned to his eyes, bright and blind to the truth.  
“He wasn’t helping me. He was showing off again. _‘Oooh, look at me! I can lift things!’_ ”  
Lance shrugged, unsurprised. He’d been Merlin’s friend long enough to know the signs.  
“You are way too invested in this, mate… I’m going to the treadmill.”

The group fitness studio was _hot._ The air was thick with sweat and adrenaline, dubstep pumping through a nearby speaker.  
Merlin had no concerns going into this class. It didn’t matter that this was a high-intensity session, or that this was his second week at the gym. It certainly didn’t matter that  
Arthur frequented this class, because this wasn’t about _him._ _  
_ This was about fitness. Fitness, and Kilgharrah not replying to _any_ of his emails _._ _  
_ “This’ll be fine.” He murmured to himself, rolling his shoulders and avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “I can handle a little cardio. Lance needs to lay off...”  
_… Except maybe Lance was right._  
“Keep going, everyone!” Cried the instructor, her voice high and loud above the speakers. “Five more rounds! Keep it going!”  
Merlin couldn’t breathe. Sweaty hands tight around the dumbbell, he froze in place, staring at the wall. _Was it always this hot? It was, wasn’t it? God, it’s hot…_ _  
_ The instructor was coming closer, her words ringing in his ears. “Come on, keep going!” she hollered, flicking her braid over her back; with her sharp eyes and vaguely threatening aura, she reminded Merlin of… well, most characters in Game of Thrones. _Why is she yelling?_ “Remember what you’re here for! Keep pushing, don’t stop, keep going!”  
Merlin could feel it all- the sweat on his back; the metal of the dumbbell in his fingers; the pulsing vibrations of the music from the speakers. “Remember what you’re here for! Don’t give up now, don’t stop!”  
He stared wide-eyed at the people around him, still going on, still pushing forward.  
His throat closed up.  
He had to get out.

The outside air hit him like a wave, wrapped itself around him in a blanket of cool relief. Merlin stumbled to a bench on unsure feet, dropping down without ceremony.  
His head fell in his hands. _“Oh my God.”_ _  
_ Merlin could feel his heart pounding, feel his eyes begin to sting, but he didn’t know _why._ He was _fine…_ Why was he crying?  
An unknown figure sat down beside him, rubbing soothing circles on his back.  
“… It’s alright, just take deep steady breaths… In and out, that’s right.”  
Merlin vaguely noted it was Arthur- his sworn enemy, Arthur. He couldn’t bring himself to care. “Do you have a water-bottle?”  
He shook his head- it was back in the studio. “Here, have some of mine.”  
Merlin accepted the bottle, forcing a wobbly smile.  
“I don’t know why I’m crying.” He tried to laugh but it came out too harsh, too breathy. “I’m not upset or anything… I’m fine.”  
Arthur offered a soft smile. _His eyes are blue,_ Merlin noted. _Nice shade of blue._ _  
_ “Exertion does that to you- especially if you’re not used to it. Honestly, you did well, lasting that long.”  
Merlin frowned, breath slowly returning.  
“Is that sarcasm?”  
“No, it’s the truth. My first high-intensity session was a wreak- I got to the end of the first Tabata and dissolved into goo.”  
Merlin chuckled, rubbing at his eyes. “Doesn’t help that Morgana was the trainer, either- she can be brutal sometimes.”  
Arthur sighed, his hands returning to his lap. Merlin missed the contact, much to his chagrin. “You know, you push yourself too hard for a beginner. You should ease yourself into this sort of thing… get a personal trainer or something.”  
At this, Merlin smirked.  
“You overestimate my bank account.” He teased, feigning contemplation, “I could probably hire a trainer if I dropped out of uni…”  
Arthur laughed. Merlin decided he quite liked this side of Arthur- much more endearing that that clot pole from before.  
“That bad, huh? OK then… I’ll put something together.”  
His jaw dropped. _  
_ “… Really?” Merlin was at a loss, stumbling over words. “Are you sure? I mean…”  
Arthur just smiled.  
“I’m sure… I mean, I’m hardly a professional, but this isn’t my first rodeo.” He grinned, nudging the other in the side. “It would mean you’d be stuck with me, though.”  
Merlin stared at the man, with his bright eyes and teasing smirk. Wiping away the last of his tears, he offered a smirk of his own.  
“… You know what? I think I can handle that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! Life had other plans O_o  
> This chapter is Arthur's POV, with more Morgana- so much fun to write, I won't deny ;P  
> Hope you enjoy!

“Back straight, Merlin, you’ll snap your spine.”  
Merlin’s dark fringe did nothing to hide his glare.   
“I’m pretty sure it’s already straight.” He grumbled. Arthur couldn’t hide his smirk. This guy is ridiculous.   
Ridiculous, yet somehow endearing? Yeah, Arthur was enjoying this.   
“Don’t waste your breath, you have fifteen more swings to go.”  
Merlin returned to his goblet swings; Arthur pretended not to hear his muttering. He found a decent distraction in Morgana, sauntering across the gym floor.   
There was a strange look in his half-sister’s eyes- he didn’t like it at all.   
“Oooh, look at you, Arthur!” She purred, rising to her full height- a centimetre taller than him. Will she ever let that go? “Have you taken on an apprentice?”  
“Something like that.” He hummed. “I’m helping Merlin here build up his resilience, after you nearly killed him last Thursday.”  
Morgana’s smirk faded, her eyes wide with remorse.   
“Oh God, I forgot about that.” She spun around to Merlin. “I’m so sorry about that, Merlin. Those classes bring out the drill sergeant in me.”  
Merlin smiled, murmuring assurances, but Arthur just scoffed.   
“Keep going, Merlin. And you,” He turned to back to Morgana, “That's hardly a excuse- just because you did Sea Cadets for two years...”  
“Three years, actually.” She sniffed, flicking her hair back. “But enough about that...” Her smile turned predatory. “… Does this mean you’re reconsidering my offer?”  
Ah yes… Her offer: to work part-time as a trainer for the gym. It wasn’t a bad offer- actually, it was quite good. But…  
“… Sorry sis,” He sighed, willing a genuine smile, “But that is a no… Merlin here is a special case.”  
Usually Morgana kept trying, pushing the benefits, the pay, the hours… But she just regarded him, head tilted to the side, with a smile tugging at her lips.   
“Is he now? Isn’t that interesting…”  
Arthur didn’t get a chance to react; before he could blink, Morgana was moving on. “… Gotta go. Keep up the good work, Merlin!”  
Merlin, rocking into his final swing, gave a wobbly grin.   
“Thank… you…”   
Arthur was silent. What the hell was that?  
“… OK Merlin, thirty seconds and we’ll start the wall squats.”

The first few sessions were standard strength and cardio exercises- things Arthur had done hundreds of times to build up his endurance. Things Merlin needed to get used to if he was going to keep working out.   
He knew he was right. He also knew he was stalling.   
To be frank, he was surprised that Merlin kept coming back. When asked what he wanted to work on, he’d just shrug and declare Arthur the expert.   
The pair were currently working on sit-ups in one of the quieter training rooms, with Arthur holding the other man’s ankles in place. (Merlin had turned awfully red at this, but he chalked this up to the humidity of the room. Fans could only do so much in the summer heat). “What motivates you?”  
Now flat on the floor, Merlin craned his neck up.   
“Pardon?”  
“What motivates you?” Arthur repeated. “Why are you here, with me, at the gym?”  
Merlin winced, reclining his head to stare at the ceiling.   
“… A great many things.”  
“Well isn’t that lovely.” The blond sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Look, I’m just trying to figure out what you want from these sessions, to make it worth our time. So,” He tugged at Merlin’s ankles, “What made you join the gym?”  
At first, Merlin was silent- staring up at the ceiling fan as though it would answer the question for him. Finally, he sighed.   
“I guess… I guess stress? Like, I’m always swamped with assignments and essays and club activities…” He huffed, running a hand through damp hair. “I thought this might be a good outlet.”  
Good. This was good. Arthur shifted from his seated position, falling to the floor beside the other. Startled, Merlin gave him a gentle shove. “Personal space, much?”  
“Tell me more.” Arthur pressed. “You’re a uni student, right? What are you studying?”

Merlin was… surprisingly interesting. Arthur wasn’t sure what he expected- Merlin was too snarky not to be an academic.   
But a bachelor of medieval history? “What do you do in that?”  
“Honestly, it’s pretty wild.” Merlin snickered, “One day we’re revising written Latin, the next we’re accusing Thomas Aquinas of causing the witch trials… Well, indirectly.”   
“Of course.” Arthur nodded along. Thomas Aquinas…That’s a person he knows.   
As much as he loved his course, Merlin was stressed as hell. He was constantly working on some project or another, on top of weekend shifts at a local pharmacy run by a family friend. Not to mention his palaeography professor, who was infuriatingly vague in his advice (Is the translation correct or not, god damn it?)  
Arthur hung on every word, humming at appropriate intervals. He did not find himself lost in the other man’s eyes- a deep blue with specks of gold- nor did he note the curious slope of his nose.   
It was during a grumbled description of Merlin’s opinionated lab partner that the answer hit him. “That’s it!”  
Merlin frowned.   
“George’s pun about trowels?”  
“What? No… That will never be it.” Arthur leapt to his feet, his mind abuzz. “I have an idea.” 

“Hey Morgana,” Arthur caught his sister at the end of her last class. To say she was immediately suspicious was an understatement.   
“Arthur.” She hummed, uncapping her water bottle. “How can I help you?”  
Arthur faltered. She might as well have slapped him.   
“Was… was that your customer service voice?”   
“Perhaps.”  
He shook it off.   
“Never mind. I need to know, which training room is used the least?”  
Morgana nearly choked on her water.   
“OK Arthur,” she chuffed, eyes wide and amused, “As an employee, I can not condone you making out in the training rooms…”  
“What, no! I-”  
“… But as your sister, who thinks the pair of you are super cute together…”  
“Oh my God, stop! I…” Arthur paused. “… Wait, pair? WhatI ha are you talking about?”  
Morgana gave him a long, pitying look.   
“Oh, you sweet summer child…”

“I have a surprise.”  
Merlin glanced up from the attendance list, eyebrow raised.   
“You’ve realised burpees are inhumane and should be illegal?”  
“Not quite.”  
It was very, very hard not to smile. Especially with Merlin standing there, looking at him with poorly veiled amusement.  
So, with a long sweep of his arm, Arthur let himself smile. “Follow me.”

Entering the room, Merlin following behind, Arthur released a sigh. Morgana did _good.  
_The room was much like the others, except for three key details:  
  
1) It was a bit on the small side, making it unsuitable for large group classes. As a result, it was rarely booked out.   
2) The room didn't smell quite as... strong... as the rest of the gym (see point one)  
3) There was a brand new punching bag in the corner.   
  
"Here we are!" He grinned, spinning around to face the other. "This is our new training room."  
Merlin blinked, still taking in the room.   
_"Our_ room?"  
"Yep. This room's pretty much empty 90% of the time. To be honest, I didn't even know it existed." Arthur dumped his stuff, moving towards the punching bag. "Morgana will let us know if it has been booked by someone else, but otherwise... It's all ours."   
Merlin sent him a sly smile, his eyes crinkled at the edges. His breathing hitched.  
"... Arthur?"  
"Huh?"   
Merlin's smile widened, his eyes shining, and _crap,_ _is this what Morgana meant?  
"I said,"_ He snickered, "What are we going to do in here?"  
Arthur bit his lip, trying to push Morgana's words aside. With a deep breath, he smiled.   
"Your new program."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penny's dropped...  
> Haha well, that's chapter two done and dusted! Third and final chapter coming soon :)  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update. Life has been chaotic, inspiration uncooperative O_O  
> Thank you so much for your patience! I present, the final chapter!  
> Hope you guys enjoy!

"Hey Lance... How did you know you liked Gwen?"  
Lance paused, head tilting to the side.   
"Honestly? I knew the moment I saw her." He grinned, "Face smudged with charcoal and paint, her brilliant smile... How could I not, you know?"  
Merlin sighed; Lance shot him a sly grin, putting away his weights. "Was that not the answer you were looking for?"  
"No, no... That's not it..."   
"Do you wanna talk about it?"  
Without a word, Merlin dropped to the ground, avoiding eye contact all the while. Chewing on his bottom lip, he gave in.   
"I think... I might like someone? But, the thing is, I didn't immediately like hi-them? Not like you and Gwen did, obviously, and you two have been together for _years_ now, so-"  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... slow down mate!" Lance joined him on the ground, tone placating. "Let me get this straight- so, you're not sure about your feelings? Or you're worried if something did happen, it wouldn't last?"  
Merlin's silence was answer enough. Lance hummed, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder. "I get it, mate, really I do. It can be scary to try and initiate a new relationship, let alone maintain one..." He sighed, "... But you can't let that fear control you. Every relationship is different, and if you think he likes you back, you should go for it. You'll never know unless you try, yeah?"  
Soft blue eyes flicked back up, a small smile tugging at Merlin's lips.   
"Thanks Lance."  
"Any time, mate."  
The pair rose back up from the floor, comfortable in silence- a silence only broken by a startled choking sound.   
"I never said it was a bloke, Lance."  
Lance just laughed.   
"You didn't need to, mate. You're too obvious for your own good."

Merlin tried. He really did.  
But every spare moment, after he finally worked up the courage to _initiate_ the conversation, he… Got distracted.  
The program Arthur designed for him was perfect, to an infuriating degree. Perfect, in that every activity was a challenge.  
“Bet you can’t get through this circuit.” He’d snicker with that Cheshire grin- the grin that sent Merlin’s brain into shut-down. “Not with those noodle arms.”  
“We’ll see about that, dollophead.”  
Merlin never could turn down a challenge.  
“Nice work, Merlin!” Arthur would call, those soft blue eyes twinkling, and Merlin would bite down the urge to punch (kiss) him. “You’re half-way through! Who would have thought it?”  
“I hate you.”  
He didn’t.  
He really, _really_ _didn't._

Merlin should be happy. He was so close to finishing his palaeography assignment, George changed labs, and he was sleeping better thanks to his new routine... But he couldn't stop thinking about _it.  
_ His futile mission.  
Shoving his textbook to the side, Merlin groaned, head in his hands.  
"It's not gonna happen, Lance. It's not in my destiny."  
Lance hadn't opened his mouth before Gwen snorted.   
"No offense Merlin, but that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."  
Lance bit his lip.  
"Babe-"  
"No, Lance, we're doing this." She insisted, abandoning her sketchbook; paint-stained fingers gripped Merlin by the shoulders, falling just short of shaking him senseless. "Merlin Emrys, you're one of the smartest, bravest people I know... But you're an oblivious idiot."  
Merlin huffed, peeking between his fingers.  
"Thanks Gwen, I feel so much better."  
 _"I'm serious,_ Merlin. From what Lance has told me, Arthur obviously-"  
His head shot up.  
"WHAT"  
"-Likes you back." She continued, unperturbed. "But even if we didn't all know that-"  
"LANCE"  
"- You have the strength to ask him out. Because you _know_ you'll always regret it if you don't."   
Face returning to his hands, Merlin felt his mind grow quiet; visions of Arthur flickered behind his eyelids like a silent movie.   
They way he smiled with pride when Merlin completed a circuit.   
The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.  
A soft warmth blossomed in his chest, familiar and comforting. _  
I... I really would, wouldn't I?  
_ Slowly, he let his hands fall.  
"... OK Gwen, you got me."  
The art student grinned, releasing her iron grip.   
"Course I did."  
Lance bit back a laugh, meeting their glares with a placating gesture.   
"Can I add something, babe?"   
His hand edged towards his girlfriend's; Gwen hummed, considering, smirk tugging at her lips.   
"I suppose."  
"You can explain how Gwen knows I like Arthur?" Merlin sniped.   
"I could, couldn't I?" Lance hummed. "What I will say is this: you think the timing is never right, the conversation never right. But," He curled his fingers around Gwen's, eyes soft with adoration, "You have the power to make it right."  
Gwen giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.   
"That's so sweet, babe. Absolute rubbish... But sweet."  
Merlin hummed, eyes closed in thought.  
"Actually... I think he might be onto something..." His eyes snapped open, brighter than before. "... I have a plan."

"So, Merlin," Arthur drawled, stretching lazily to the sky. "We've got about ten minutes left. Think you can do fifty burpees in ten minutes?"  
Merlin bit his lip, pointedly ignoring the way the blond's biceps flexed into the stretch (he was _not_ getting distracted this time).   
Taking a breath, Merlin forced his lips into a smirk.   
"In ten minutes? I reckon I could do it in five."  
Arthur paused, releasing his stretch.   
"You sure about that? With those match-stick arms?"  
"Absolutely. In fact," He drawled, edging closer to Arthur, "I'm willing to bet on it."  
"R-really?" Arthur coughed, eyebrow raised. His face was turning red- Merlin had to bite back a snicker. "What are your terms?"  
"If I win, you take me to dinner."  
Arthur's cough became strangled, his face beet red.   
"Oh? And... And if you lose?"  
Merlin shrugged.   
"I'm not gonna lose."

"Merlin, you're not gonna make it."  
"No, I can!"  
Eyes wild, Merlin kept pushing; he ignored his hammering heart, wholly focused on his goal. "I can! I've... One more minute!"  
Arthur watched, chewing his lip.   
"You've done thirty burpees in four, Merlin. You've improved... But you have your limit."  
His words fell on deaf ears.   
"Thirty... five! Thir... ty si-"   
Merlin never finished.  
His foot slipped.   
  


Eyes scrunched shut, Merlin braced himself...

... But the impact never came. 

Shocked, he blinked dumbly up at a wide-eyed Arthur. "... Oh."  
"That's it? Oh?" The blond grumbled. "You could have hurt yourself, Merlin! You need to know your limits!"  
"... Sorry."  
Neither let go.   
Recovering from the shock, Merlin deflated. "So much for my brilliant plan..."  
Arthur blinked, scowl twitching upwards.   
"You call that a plan? More like an accident waiting to happen."  
"I can say it, you can't."  
The blond laughed, helping Merlin back onto his feet. He didn't back away.   
"You can explain your thought process to me over dinner tonight, yeah?"  
Merlin blinked.   
"You... You still want to?"  
Arthur chuckled.  
"I mean, that was a complete mess... But it was a pretty romantic mess." He blushed, scratching the back of his neck. "That is, if you meant...?"  
"Yes!" Merlin blurted, face growing warm. "Yes, that's... What I meant."  
Arthur smiled, all soft and shy, and Merlin felt his chest constrict.   
"Good... Pleasure doing business with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually can't believe it's finished... That's probably really bad, isn't it? ;P  
> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know if you guys want a continuation of this, maybe in a series of one-shots?   
> Please comment and/or kudos if you have the time, it makes me absurdly happy <3

**Author's Note:**

> High intensity classes are hard, y'all.  
> Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter coming soon :)


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